“Maddox, save it.” She throws her hand up. “This was a mistake. You can’t be here.”
This girl knows how to wound me like no one else.
“You’re serious right now?”
“Tessa!” the voice screams again, more irate this time.
“Yes.” Tessa huffs, smoothing her dress out and scouring the grass for something. “You have to go.”
“You had your chance to tell me to leave.” I take my rubber band from her hand after she plucks it off the ground, where it must have fallen, and tie my hair back. “You chose to grind your sopping cunt against me instead. You’re mine now. And don’t for a goddamn second try to fool yourself or me into believing you didn’t feel every bit of electricity that I felt. Just like in my office, we’re in this together.”
She stands before me, more frantic than I’ve ever seen her, hurling her arm toward the incoming fury. “That is my sister Eden screaming, which means my mother is close behind. My relationship with them is rocky at best. A feather could have it buried under an avalanche. Please don’t—”
“Okay, c’mon.” I grip her hand and escort her toward the front of the house because I would do just about anything to keep that panic out of her eyes. “I don’t understand the full scope of what you’re upset about, but I won’t pretend in front of anyone, for any reason, that you aren’t the most fascinating, addictive, andinfuriatingwoman I’ve ever known.”
She stops cold and stares at me, mouth agape and hand still in mine. “I’m telling you, this is a disaster. Are you doing this because you have some need to dictate how I handle things or to assert control over me?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I glance around, noticing there are a few people gathered on the porch and our privacy is nearly diminished, so I quickly pull her toward me and cup her cheek. “This is me telling you that the kiss back there was only the beginning. I want more. I’ll fight for more.”
A choppy breath spills from her, her forehead pinching in doubt. She’s not going to make any of this easy on me, not that I expected her to. I’m about to expand on my explanation because it’s clear she’s having trouble believing anything I’m saying, but Eden’s shrill rage comes from one side, and her father closes in on the other.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Tessa. You had him near the kids!”
“Here we go,” Tessa hisses, closing her eyes.
“I’m really starting to feel unwelcome,” I quip in a poor attempt to lighten things, but it falls terribly flat.
When those blues snap back open, she isn’t frantic. She’s resolved, cold, shut off.
And in a simple move that speaks volumes, she drops my hand and steps away.
TESSA
This is one of those out-of-body experiences, yanked in opposing directions with the only feasible outcome being split in two. Worlds colliding. My heart is thrashing against my sternum, my core is still throbbing, and there’s a lump in my throat because unexpected emotions clogged it during that mind-altering kiss.
But even as I sense Maddox’s larger-than-life presence hovering, I know if I look at him, I’ll see the man I’m craving and the straw that will be too much for my family to carry.
An answer and an ending.
Not that I have time to sort those thoughts out because Violet’s engagement party just transformed into a clusterfuck for the ages.
Eden is shaking and foaming at the mouth. My mother jogs the last few steps, her face devoid of color. My father, Hunter, and John come barreling up on the other side. And my grandmother, though hanging back, is observing from the front porch.
Other than her, the rest of them are blathering on in some manner or another. It all harmonizes to be the soundtrack of my impending migraine.
You’d think they’d be afraid of a Noire standing on their lawn, with his guards on high alert at the end of the driveway. But they aren’t.
The Noires are royalty in New Orleans because while they cater to the world’s most corrupt groups through their membership, they spoil the common citizens. They donate money to charities and events. They open their restaurants and part of their casino to the public. They take pride in the culture. Their loyalty to the city is apparent. Not that the average person would welcome them over for dinner, but there’s a reverence for their empire.
But here? Out in the country, where life is about good people and home cooking, saying grace and trite gossip, the Noires aren’t feared or revered. They’re despised.
Finally, Eden’s gripes rise above the rest. “He was playing with Derek’s nieces. And Adam. Have you lost your mind?”
I guess the kids aren’t very good at the hiding part of hide-and-seek.
“Yes,” I respond dryly. “Obviously, since I don’t see the issue, right? He wasn’t teaching them to gamble or explaining the inner workings of his club. He was tossing water balloons with them. They’ll survive.”
Maybe I should be more diplomatic with my answers, but I have no tolerance for dramatic overreactions, regardless of how I feel about him showing up here.
